


so good ( that you can't explain it )

by dormant_bender



Series: two's company, three's a crowd. [4]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Asphyxiation, Dorks in Love, Explicit Sexual Content, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, OT3, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Post-Game(s), Teasing, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 16:02:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10193537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormant_bender/pseuds/dormant_bender
Summary: After the game, Marc and Rafael discuss how much Neymar deserves a little extra that night. Because honestly, he earned it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> TerNeyFinha will rise, I'm telling you. I just need more people hopping on the OT3 train. Lmao

  


  
  


Keeping it together in the face of victory was incredibly difficult for the trio that had eagerly piled into the black van patiently awaiting outside of the stadium. There were necessary congratulations in order, of course, which was only more time wasted in Neymar's opinion but he knew for a fact that the pay-off would be worth it.

  


Winning so triumphantly when the odds were not in their favor had proven possible in the face of skepticism, but they had done it, they had succeeded when everyone seemed to call their impending loss. There poised next to the window seat is Neymar, who's leg jiggles up and down impatiently, eyes glued to the crowd of fans surging around the van attempting to relay their prideful regards.

  


And as grateful as the Brazilian is, he just desires them to meander around the vehicle instead of keeping the van at a dead-stop. Anxious, he was, and nearly shivering in anticipation as he ponders just what would be in store for the trio once they reached the nearest house available. Which would probably be Neymar's honestly, not that he minded, he just needed to get his palms on every inch of skin imaginable once in the safety of his home. 

  


Beside him is Rafael who seems equally as euphoric about the whole ordeal, keeping a steady hand trailing up and down the length of Neymar's thigh while the other hand is intertwined with Marc's. Hazel eyes stare at the hand, hissing quietly when it squeezes his aching muscles, but enjoying the attention nonetheless. 

  


There, permanently etched to his mouth, is a smug smirk as he gazes from the hand currently inching up his thigh towards his half-cock, traveling up the length of his arm, and finally to the unsuspecting face of the latter. Rafael isn't looking in his direction at all, currently pretending that he's not doing what he's doing, and it makes the Brazilian snort his amusement as he returns his gaze back to the window.

  


Upon doing so, the hand finally reaches the area it was needed most, squeezing him through the material of the jeans he adorned. Neymar wets his bottom lip, fighting the urge to release the sound trapped in his throat. But instead of pleading for the boy to stop, he places his hand on top of the one in his lap, makes it squeeze him harder until his cock is swelling into Rafael's palm.

  


Marc is located on the opposing side by the window, a small grin resting on his lips, blatantly aware of what was going on. The Brazilian in the middle leans over, breathing incomprehensible words into his ear, making Neymar purse his lips and narrow his eyes suspiciously. He doesn't question it, however, doesn't desire for his jealousy to make an appearance and ruin the blissful atmosphere that had formed.

  


Soon the trio are dropped off at the massive house and it was a race to see who could get in the fastest it seemed. Deciding that the bedroom was the ideal place, the Brazilian is swiftly kicking out of his sneakers, jogging awkwardly—as one does with a boner—toward the stairs leading toward the bedroom area. But when he reaches the bottom of the staircase, he hears no echoing footsteps behind him, so he glances back to survey the area and where those two little shits had disappeared to.

  


"Uhh—Hello, _bedroom_." Neymar murmurs exasperatedly, motioning toward the winding staircase, lips pursing.

  


But when he turns fully to gaze upon the scene, he finds himself nearly choking on the saliva building within his mouth. His tongue unconsciously darts out to wet his rapidly drying lips, reaching down to adjust himself within his too-tight jeans. What he sees is the sight of Marc pressing Rafael against the nearest surface, which just so happens to be wall, one knee wedging between his legs while he fiercely assaults his mouth with kisses.

  


"Or—or this, yeah, this is fine." rasps the Brazilian as he hooks his thumbs within the hem of his shirt, tugging it easily over his head, discarding it carelessly on one of the steps. 

  


Usually the curly-haired man would whine and complain about not being somehow involved in the equation but he can't breathe a word now, not when this was quite possibly the most rewarding outcome from the game itself. Instead he mobilizes on wobbly legs toward the couch where he plops down onto the cushion, immediately shedding his jeans as he does so.

  


Marc and Rafael don't seem to notice his arrival, however, the duo continuing to go at it. Hands are a blur with how swiftly they move from one location to the next and Neymar can't keep up with where they are eventually. All he sees are hands tearing off shirts and disposing of them, only breaking the kiss to gasp much needed breaths, just to reconnect moments later with the same intensity that leaves the Brazilian wrapping a hand around his cock.

  


Rafael is abruptly halting the kiss and pressing gently against the blond's chest, much to his dismay, and is now sauntering toward where Neymar rests upon the couch. "Like the show?" cheekily inquires the raven as he swats at the hand still gripping onto Neymar's cock and instead straddles his waist. "It was Marquinho's idea, doing that. Something about how you earned it." 

  


Marc wavers near the wall, bracing himself against the colored expanse, before pushing off to join the duo residing on the couch. He plops down beside Neymar and reaches a hand out, exploring his chest with one hand while the other crooks at the elbow and digs into the back of the couch. "Couldn't have done it without you and I just thought it'd be nice."

  


Neymar scrambles for words, shivering at the fingers ghosting along his chest and downward to his bare cock, not to mention dealing with the weight of Rafael still on his waist. Immediately tawny hands are supporting the younger boy's waist, tugging him closer, cock brushing against the material of the latter's jeans. He slips his hands to the front of the denim to tug upon his zipper and to pop the button keeping them sealed.

  


"You didn't even do this for my birthday," teases the Brazilian, hazel eyes glinting deviously as he shoves a hand into the opening of Rafael's jeans to seek out his rigid cock. 

  


"A-ah.." mewls the raven as he reluctantly removes the hand from his jeans. "This is about you," insists the younger as he grabs at his wrists, pinning them back against the couch. "Shower down the hall, let's go." 

  


Marc rises from the couch abruptly and leads the trio down the hallway toward the desired location. There's a massive shower located in the room as well as a jacuzzi bath but the blond decides that the shower would suffice for what was about to occur. The blond and the raven proceed to strip, tantalizingly slow, teasing Neymar for all it was worth.

  


Said man flushes a dark crimson and offers a breathless laugh. "I've thought about this way more than I probably should and now it's finally happening," keens the brunet as he opens the glass door to the shower, stepping in, glancing from the raven to the blond and back. "Hurry up, meu princesas."

  


One after the other the men enter the shower and crowd around the man of the match. Rafael absently reaches toward the dial and shifts it to a comfortable warmth, the water raining down from the shower-head to pound mercilessly against their bare skin. The younger Brazilian stands before Neymar, fingers winding into his curls, tugging him down for a heady kiss.

  


Rafael's lips meld in practiced synchrony with the elder boy's, tongue pressing past the seam of his lips, desperate for a taste of what he had to offer. And he isn't disappointed because Neymar always taste saccharine, sweet like candy as opposed to Marc, who often tastes spicy like cinnamon. It was an interesting comparison, the raven always mused, but this was about Neymar right now.

  


He sharply gasps into Neymar's mouth when he feels the hardness of his cock pressing persistently against his hip and decides to finally relieve some of the pent-up frustration overwhelming the brunet. One of his hands wraps around his cock, working his shaft up and down, gaining momentum and focusing on setting a steady rhythm.

  


All the while Marc is preoccupied, hands having settled on either side of Neymar's hips, lips caressing the smooth skin of his neck where his tattoo is located. Teeth, ivory and pointed, nip earnestly at his skin and receives the backward thrust of hips as a reward. The blond chuckles, low and husky, breath hot against Neymar's neck as he repeats the action and this time bucks his own hips forward, cock prodding at the gentle swell of the Brazilian's ass.

  


"You did so good today, meu amor.." breathes Marc, peppering open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of Neymar's neck until he reaches the space just below his ear. He places a tender kiss there then takes a nibble of his earlobe, tugging it between his teeth. "We couldn't take our eyes off you, Ney. We were doing doping and we talked about it, how sexy you are when you wanna win. You wanted it so bad, didn't you?"

  


Neymar whimpers low in his throat, mouth slacking against Rafael's, unable to maintain the kiss with the need to instead occupy his mouth with Marc. Rafael seems to understand this sentiment, however, allows the elder to withdraw and shift his head to capture Marc's awaiting mouth in a passionate kiss. Not that Rafael minds, no, not when he otherwise has Neymar at full attention.

  


So he watches the display for a considerate moment and contemplates how to move the ordeal along. With a smirk, he turns around and presses his ass against Neymar's front, bending down at the waist and plastering his slick hands against the shower-wall. "You can fuck me tonight, princesa, I'm all yours."

  


It takes a while for the realization to sink in that Neymar had finally been granted the opportunity to take Rafael after desperately wanting to for what seemed like forever. It had been unofficially decided that Marc was the one to give it to the youngest member of the trio while Neymar had settled for second best in the form of a blazing hot mouth and a wet tongue. But now? Now he's biting down painfully hard onto Marc's bottom lip, earning a pained hiss in response, to which he rapidly apologizes for.

  


"F-fuck.. You're gonna—You _want_ me to?" Neymar's eyes fill with pleased astonishment, hands going to either side of his waist once more, snapping his hips forward to gain some type of friction. "Tell me you do, princesa. Tell me how much you want it," growls the Brazilian, temporarily forgetting the blond's presence behind him.

  


Rafael groans at the sensations, one hand sliding from the wall to stroke himself, nodding enthusiastically in response. "I do, I want you, so bad." mewls the raven, glancing over his shoulder to gaze at the Brazilian.

  


Chocolate eyes meet hazel and set them ablaze. Like that, the elder is prodding inexperienced fingers against Rafael's tight ring of muscle before pressing in one, experimental finger. The Brazilian tenses initially at the intrusion, having not been properly stretched out in quite sometime, not when the team was occupied with training non-stop. He takes a moment to adjust, head bowing, hair plastering to his forehead and droplets of water clinging to his lashes.

  


Marc rests his chin on Neymar's water-slicked shoulder and watches, breath hitching, at the sight laid out before him. He shifts, nose nestling against the elder's neck, pressing another kiss at the base before reverting back to watching the scene unfold. His pale hands grip ever-so-slightly tighter at Neymar's tanned hips, nails digging into the skin, hips instinctively bucking forward when the youngest of the trio releases a choked gasp.

  


The blond watches as the muscles of Rafael's back fluctuate with the way Neymar's slender fingers work him, scissoring him open then withdrawing only to plunge deeply inside. Marc purses his lips, understanding the jealousy factor then, and decides to make an input. "Curl your fingers," encourages the German and Neymar obliges, fingers curling and unfurling until Rafael is a pathetically whimpering mess.

  


"I know what to do," defensively murmurs the brunet as he repeats the action until thoroughly sated with the symphony of sounds emanating from the man bent before him. "Tell me you're ready, princesa. I can't wait anymore, I have to—Fuck, Rafa, tell me you're ready and want it." 

  


Rafael gains a sense of composure as he glances over his shoulder, locking eyes with dazed hazel, nodding slowly in response. "I want you," breathes the raven, nibbling at his lower lip, pressing his hips back to further his point. "Please..?" Chocolate eyes flicker to azures then, noticing the blatant hunger lingering within his gaze, winking at him playfully. 

  


Neymar is too overwhelmed to say anything else and instead strokes his cock a few more times before pressing the tip against the latter's ring of muscles. Slowly, cautiously, the Brazilian slides in and has to pause a moment to recollect himself. This was too good to be true, thinks the brunet, as he keeps a firm hand on the younger's hip while the other hand goes to his shoulder keeping him down. Rafael is clenching his eyes shut, adjusting to the feel of the elder entering him; he was a lot larger than he appeared, that was for sure, so he hadn't been prepared for this.

  


Eventually the brunet is confident enough in his restraint to ease in until he's fully sheathed in the youth. Once more he stops, reveling in the snug clench of the younger's body, like he was unconsciously trying to pull him deeper into the smoldering heat of his body. Being connected so intimately like this was almost enough to bring the Brazilian to tears but somehow he miraculously doesn't release them, far too entranced with the way Rafael is wiggling back against him, silently pleading him to move—to do something rather than leave him trembling with anticipation.

  


While Neymar works on setting a steady rhythm of snapping hips, Marc preoccupies himself with smoothing his large hands over the velvet-soft globes of Neymar's ass. Once more his mouth is attaching to the expanse of his throat, assaulting every inch of available skin in harsh bites, sucking to the soothe the skin until he's moaning huskily at the addition of several deep, purple bruises littering his tanned skin.

  


Satisfied, Marc begins the ginger prodding of his own fingers against Neymar's entrance, sinking in easily with how relaxed his body currently is. Almost instantaneously the brunet, who's eyes had fluttered shut with the monumental bliss he was drowning in, releases a grunt and attempts to roll back against the fingers currently working him open.

  


"Ever heard of a," he grunts, snapping his hips roughly against Rafael's, the sound of skin slapping skin nearly deafening in the confines of the shower: "a fucking warning, Marc?"

  


Azure eyes silently appraise the scarlet flush tainting his skin and spreading across his body. The blond snorts at that then uses his idle hand to turn the brunet's head, bringing him close to silence any further complaints. Because who could complain at a time like this, honestly? Marc continues to open Neymar's pliant body, who unconsciously continues to rock back against his curling fingers.

  


His mouth is moving at a frantic pace against the elder's, intent on leaving him breathless and panting, and he does. Neymar is overloading with pleasure that he isn't certain he can handle all at once but he's determined as ever to keep this going for as long as possible—so long as he doesn't come from over-sensitivity first. His tongue moves earnestly against Marc's, nipping and sucking, tongue prodding and caressing his cavern gingerly; it's like the first time they kissed, all wanton lust and nothing less. 

  


Marc moans into Neymar's mouth as he withdraws the fingers from his form to instead replace them with something much bigger, a more wider stretch and deeper fill. The blond both feels and sees the change in the Brazilian's body, becoming more rigid instead of lax, tensing and falling back against Marc's flushed chest.

  


Rafael notices the exchange and purses his lips, for the first time displeased since the ordeal began. So he takes matters into his own hands and shifts his hips forward before pressing roughly back against Neymar's cock, quickly gaining his attention once more. He repeats the action until Neymar relaxes, rolling his hips fluidly forward, using a tawny hand to find the back of Rafael's neck to keep him still.

  


"You feel so good," keens Neymar as he focuses solely on Rafael now, though he can't ignore the cock currently sliding fluidly in and out of his body. "I've wanted this for so long with you a-and, fuck—You're so tight and feel so good, doing so good for me.." 

  


Rafael smirks smugly at that, using it as incentive to meet the elder's thrusts halfway, having him bury in deeper with each and every roll of hips he has to offer. He glances over his shoulder once more but this time finds himself searching for azures and easily, he finds them, locks onto them and his lips part into an 'o' at a particularly brutal thrust.

  


Marc stares in awe at the sight of the disheveled Brazilian; eyes blown and wide, mouth thoroughly abused, cheeks a permanent pink as he maintains steady eye contact. It's erotic and intense and the blond uses it as fuel, setting fire to the unhinged desire raging inside of him. Blunt nails form crimson crescents in Neymar's skin as he pounds into him, unabashed and earnest, desiring him to feel every inch he has to offer.

  


And Neymar answers in kind, spasmodically thrusting his hips forward and meeting Rafael halfway, raspy moans emanating from his kiss-bruised lips. The hand against the back of the younger's neck tightens considerably leaving the brunet breathless, body convulsing beneath Neymar's administrations. With every blink, Rafael swears he sees a blinding, pulsing white light behind his lids and isn't certain he can hang on much more. 

  


"Not much longer," mewls Rafael who's throat is constricting at the tightness around his neck, but he trusts Neymar, doesn't argue against it; in fact, it makes everything much better, makes him feel everything that much more.

  


Marc watches, concerned, at the hand still around the back of Rafael's neck but is confident in him, knows he can handle a little pleasure mixed with pain. But just the thought of Neymar potentially hurting Rafael has him hammering in at a rapid pace, hips snapping, the brunet's ass reddening against Marc's form. Neymar is panting now, breathing labored, as he attempts to meet the blond halfway all while trying to bring Rafael to the brink of ecstasy. 

  


Granted it doesn't take much to get Rafael off, it never does honestly, so it's no surprise that he's the first out of the trio to begin a noticeable tremble. But still, he attempts to hold onto the last shred of sanity he has, hands grasping blindly at the slick shower wall for purchase but to no avail. He shifts against Neymar, hiking a leg onto the lower soap holder, allowing the brunet to experience a different angle that leaves them both moaning each other's names like a mantra. 

  


The new angle catches the brunet off guard at first but he works into it, delving deeper inside of the raven, more so than he thought physically possible. Then he feels it, the tell-tale clench around his cock, alternating between squeezing him tight and releasing. He tightens the hand at the back of his throat once more, grunting lowly, using the hand at his hip to keep him firmly rooted to the spot as he shifts his hips to thrust earnestly inside the boy.

  


And like that, Rafael is coming fiercely, crying out in a harsh sob. Everything goes blindingly bright, temporarily blinding him to everything else around him, minus the harsh snapping inside of him and the feel of Neymar's cock fucking him through the resistance he meets. His walls clench unbearably tight around Neymar's cock, who is still hammering inside of him, and for the longest he doesn't think he feels anything at all as he goes boneless and buries his face in one of his arms, biting down at the skin there to prevent any further noises.

  


Azure eyes watch the display; how Rafael's back muscles spasm, body trembling like a leaf, how he still unconsciously moves with Neymar despite the dangers of over-sensitivity. But it spurs him on, desiring for Neymar to experience it in ten fold. Rafael is quick to bounce back, however, hissing as he eases off of Neymar's cock in favor of facing him. One of his hands attach to his rigid cock, stroking him, twisting on the upstroke while his mouth feverishly assaults his.

  


It leaves Neymar clenching around Marc's cock, hips thrusting in favor of the warm hand surrounding him, feeling the beginnings of orgasm ripple through his lean form. Marc continues to roll his hips forward, reveling in the clench around him, burying in deep and gently rocking inside him. He seeks out that one, delicate spot that would make the Brazilian see stars, moving languidly until Neymar is harshly biting down onto Rafael's bottom lip and releasing a grunt into his mouth.

  


Neymar is tight, unbearably so, as he spasms on Marc's thick cock and releases into the palm of Rafael's awaiting hand. The thick, cloudy substance rinses away through the spaces in between Rafael's finger, thanks to the cascading water above, much to his amusement. He increases the movements of his lips now, fighting vehemently for dominance, the elder struggling to keep up as he continues to release into Rafael's hand; and Rafael milks him for all he's worth, stroking him through the blissful descent.

  


Marc comes not too soon after, following over the edge with a grunt buried against Neymar's shoulder, filling him with hot spurts of cum. His lids flutter to a content close, allowing his abdomen to twitch, body emptying entirely in the lean Brazilian still encased within his embrace. When he gains semblance of consciousness, he eases out of the elder, hands gingerly soothing the crescents indenting his skin.

  


"You did so good for us," breathes Marc, gulping deeply, lips peppering along his skin once more.

  


Rafael echoes the sentiment with a vigorous nod of his head, lids drooping drowsily. "You earned it, Ney, you earned this." One of his hands cups the elder's cheek, thumb brushing tenderly across the flushed skin. "I love you," he breathes solemnly, meeting hazel eyes directly.

  


"I love you, too." squeaks the Brazilian, feeling the familiar prick of tears at the back of his eyes. He leans back comfortably against Marc's supportive chest and cranes his neck in an attempt to get a decent look at him: "I love you, too, German-Wonder." 

  


Marc crinkles his nose at the term but places a chaste kiss to his cheek nonetheless. "We should actually shower now and then get some sleep. We can celebrate more later?"

  


Rafael snickers to himself, "If by celebrate you mean more hot sex, then I'm in." 

  


Neymar quirks an inquisitive brow then smirks smugly, wrapping his arms securely around the younger's waist. "Next time I'm topping your precious Marquinho." 

  


The blond opens his mouth to speak then closes it a moment later. He has a silent exchange with Rafael, who's brows reach his hairline, lips pursing firmly together. "I—Okay, fine. You can try, but only this once."

  
  


  


**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it ? Was it filthy ? I'm ashamed. Just a little bit. Whoops. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it ;) <3 xx
> 
> Also: HOW INSANE WAS THAT GAME YESTERDAY TF~ LIKE YA'LL SHOULD'VE EXPECTED SOME SMUT TO COME YOUR WAY AFTER THAT YAAAS


End file.
